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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801055">Revelations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic'>SugarsweetRomantic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hitman (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cabin Fic, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Ficlet, Phone Sex, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:34:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>47 calls Diana with a question, and a surprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agent 47/Diana Burnwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ever since the events on that damned train in the Carpathian mountains, 47 has changed, Diana muses. He's lost some of the weight on his shoulders; she's gotten some rare smiles out of him. She's changed too, admittedly. Without the ICA keeping track of every minute detail of her life, from her precise location to her diet and from her fertility status to her interpersonal relationships,  she's become </span>
  <em>
    <span>free</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She doesn't think she's become careless, but she's definitely lost decades-old shackles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sill, when 47 </span>
  <em>
    <span>jokes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it comes unexpectedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've got to tell me something," he murmurs quietly into a burner phone. His, to her ears, accented syllables reach her wireless earpiece with the smallest of delays, thanks to her most recent investment in decent technological aids. Diana tilts her head in confusion, not that he can see her, as she bends over in the bathroom of a hotel in Nairobi, rubbing aloe vera into burnt skin. Damn her Anglo-Saxon complexion and damn the African sun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pardon?" she asks, massaging a sore calf and considering whether she should just take a lukewarm bath instead, especially to help soothe the first-degree burns she can't reach. She might as well, she decides. While the bath fills up, she walks out into the bedroom area of her suite and begins to disrobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is it with you and log cabins?" 47 asks, and Diana nearly trips over her own feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What on Earth do you mean?" she asks, though she knows exactly what he's getting at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The ICA had apartments and terraced homes as safehouses," 47 states. "They even had a few villas scattered across the planet. And yet, as far as I know, you've always chosen log cabins over them whenever you could." She can hear sheets rustle. According to the itinerary, he should be in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>hotel room in Zürich now, spending the weekend in Switzerland to keep up the Tobias persona. Visions of snow-covered Alps enter Diana's mind and she nearly moans in jealousy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do you ask this now?" she asks. She's avoiding the question, but hopes he'll give her a few extra seconds of respite. He huffs in what she hopes is entertainment and obliges her unspoken request, as always, responding: "This suite has a log cabin theme." Diana can't suppress a quiet giggle at the mundanity of the statement. "So," 47 asks, "why?" Diana sighs. Is she really about to tell him this? She trusts him blindly with her life, so why not this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I…" she begins, but she doesn't know how to continue. "I find them…" 47 listens in silence. She can't even hear his breathing. Damn him. "I find them arousing, alright?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I--" Diana chuckles nervously. "I lost my virginity in one," she admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see," 47 comments. "Shame you're not here, then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Diana agrees absentmindedly. Her mind is back in a small, remote cabin, being bent over an oak dinner table at eighteen years old by her then-boyfriend, after he'd spent half an hour with his face between her thighs, feeling him pound into her with the smell of a fire in the background. Her breath hitches, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>47 must have picked up on that, but she can't bring herself to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Diana?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you aroused now?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is stupid. This is a line the ICA specifically forbade them to cross.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ICA is dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," she responds truthfully. She walks back into the bathroom and turns the tap off; the bath is full. "Yes, I am. 47, I…" She shallows, trying desperately to ignore the rush of heat his voice draws to her centre.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Open your door." She freezes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm...nude." Diana hears a quiet splutter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Open it," he repeats. Deciding to humour him, Diana goes up to the entrance to her suite and opens it just slightly. There's an unmarked gift bag standing in front of it. She snatches it quickly and retreats back into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you get me a gift?" she asks, nimble fingers already removing tissue paper to find the hidden prize. 47 is quiet as she retrieves a sleek box. "What's this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just open it," 47 responds. Was that a hint of exasperation in his voice? She slips the lid off of the box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." There are multiple designer </span>
  <em>
    <span>adult toys</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside, and they're most definitely to her taste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought you could use some relaxation," 47 explains. "I'll leave you to it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"47?" Diana asks suddenly, operating on pure instinct as she wraps her fingers around smooth glass and dark navy silicone, spreading lube onto the surfaces. "Would you like to stay on the line?" He groans, deeply, and the sound itself is nearly enough to send her over the edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please," he begs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then stay." Diana lets out a quiet moan, pressing a slim, curved vibrator into her wet cunt. Beeping distracts her: the call dropped. "Fuck," she curses. Did she take it too far? Her personal mobile rings. She carefully shuffles over to the bed, and glances at the screen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Video call: Tobias. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Relief washes over her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning, she presses the green 'answer with video' button and lies back on soft sheets, spreading her legs.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos for the log cabin inspiration go to cicak, bourbonpowered and longteeth. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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